


All In

by Callmerin



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Character Death, Fantasy, Gen, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Magic, Other, The Clan, The Clan Part One, honestly i don't even know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-08-22 04:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8272697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmerin/pseuds/Callmerin
Summary: Once you're in the Clan, you can never leave.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMERS:  
> I wrote this story as a writer with way too much spare time on their hands who watched Monsta X's All In M/V and got inspired. Some of the things in this story might not line up entirely with the music video. The characters in the story do not have the same personalities as their Monsta X counterparts; they're basically just characters, using Monsta X's names. If that doesn't appeal to you, I get it.  
> This isn't based off of the second or third(?) part of the clan trilogy either, as only the first part was out when I wrote it (and by the time the second part was released, I had no idea how to incorporate it into the story. Like how do you casually write in pink teddy bear bikes into a story? It's hard, okay.)  
> I really have no idea where this takes place. It's some sort of dystopia? Distant future? Weird mix? It doesn't take place in Korea OR America or--well, anywhere that exists in reality really.  
> I guess I should say this is just a Monsta X-inspired story, rather than a Monsta X story, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.  
> (also now of course I'm huge Monsta X trash)  
> Thanks!  
> I don't know.

_A horn sounded in the background, bellowing loudly through the streets and signalling a surrender. Shouts in the distance surrounded him, but it blended into the wind and dissolved into background noise against his ears._

_Minhyuk couldn’t focus on any of it. Instead, his attention was drawn to the unconscious boy laying in front of him, his eyes closed peacefully, as if he was sleeping, and his breath barely detectable._

_"C’mon…” He whispered silently, cupping the boys’ face in his hands. “C’mon…”_

_He pulled out the blue flower from his back pocket. It shone against his dirtied white outfit, which had been bloodied with wounds concealed by the fabric. He placed the flower near the boys mouth, for once in his life praying, praying that he’d take the flower, and that everything would be alright._

_Slowly, the boy…_

_\--------_

            The seven of them sat circled together on the discarded crates and boxes left underneath the stoned bridge.

            The place had become somewhat of a trash bin of the town, people abandoning items they no longer needed underneath it. This left a wide assortment of items resting there, such as torn lawn chairs, empty pots and pans, and broken bike wheels.

            To them, however, the crevice underneath the bridge marked their territory. It was a place just far enough from the town that they could indulge in laziness and their own conversations, but still close enough to hear the bustling of the town and murmurs of conversations and shouts from the market.

            With the hot sun of the summer beating down on them, they lazily drummed with the abandoned trinkets, creating music with the clanking of metal pots and pans and beating of old milk cartons. A comfortable silence engulfed them, for a bit, until Kihyun broke it.

            “Have you guys been hearing about the Clan recently?” He asked, mindlessly toying with a snapped in half rope. He was very clearly the youngest of the bunch; he had a round face that still had baby fat clinging onto it, and wide, chestnut-colored eyes that peered at everything in an innocently curious manner.

            Hyungwon had heard of it. It was impossible not to. Though the Clan had only become predominant a year ago, they were always on the townspeoples' lips. People spoke about them in hushed, fearful tones; he had heard claims that they were going to bring rebellion, chaos, and even mass death.

            “What about them?” Jooheon asked, though he seemed fully preoccupied with the broken arm on his vomit-green armchair. He was one of the oldest ones of the group, but didn’t look it. He had the same round face as Kihyun, but all his baby fat had been melted off, and his narrow eyes and thick eyebrows gave him a more mature look.

            “I don’t know.” Kihyun shrugged. He hit the side of a crate with one of his crutches. He was paralyzed in one of his legs and half-paralyzed in the other, and had been since he was born. But instead of a wheelchair, he preferred to use crutches. He stated that it made him feel freer. “I just hear that they’re planning something huge.” 

            “They’re _always_ planning something.” Jooheon snorted. The arm of the chair ripped off fully and he stared at it for a brief moment then discarded it into the street. “When have people ever said that they’re NOT planning something?”

            Kihyun shrugged again, and reluctantly said, “Yeah, I guess.”

            A loud booming voice suddenly ripped through their conversation.

            “Thou who shall not obey the command of the destined one is doomed to fail!” It shouted. “Those who don’t rise above the Clan will fall!”

            Hyungwon snapped up, jumping down from his spot on a crate. There was only one person the voice could belong to: his father.

            His father was a respected man in the town, who earned his respect through serving as both the local doctor and priest. He had been preaching against the Clan the moment they had emerged, proclaiming them to be a godless faction designed to reign chaos on the town. Yet despite all of his ill words, he had somehow avoided being targeted by them. At least, he hadn’t been yet.

            Hyungwon quickly turned away, knowing that if his father spotted him, it’d be trouble. It was around the time he was supposed to be doing his studies; he had already been caught sneaking out to be with the group two times this month. If he saw him again, it’d be over.

            He frantically looked for a place to hide, but all the crates that could conceal him were either see-through or too small.

            Before he could hide rush to hide against the opposing wall of the bridge, Minhyuk, Hyungwon’s closest and longest friend, whispered to him in warning, “He’s coming this way.”

            “Hyungwon!” The booming voice shouted, and Hyungwon flinched. He took a breath in, preparing himself. “What did I tell you about hanging around these delinquents?”

            Hyungwon turned around, spotting his father storming near him, a posse of his trainee preachers behind him. “I was just going to be gone for a little bit.”

            A hard hand slapped him. “None of that. Get back to your studies immediately.” His father turned to address the group. Hyungwon felt Minhyuk’s concerned eyes piercing through his back, and he turned a shade of beet red, his cheeks turning hot with embarrassment. “And you all. Leave my son alone.”

            “No problem-o Mister.” Jooheon said. “He smells gross anyway. Like salami.” The group laughed, and the Jooheon added, “Probably from being around you all day.” He curled his nose in mock disgust.

            His father lifted up a pointed finger at them. “You all better learn some respect or you’ll amount to nothing in life. Do you want to end up like the faithless? Picking trash for a living?”

            “Oh no, sir.” Jooheon said, feigning fake respect. “I’d rather dedicate my time to be more like you. Spouting out bullshit to those that don’t listen.” He let out one of his infamous cocky smirks. Hyungwon could barely contain his laugh, but he managed to stifle it before his father could hear.

            His father looked fully heated now, and Hyungwon could see the frustrated veins popping out of his forehead. But instead of saying more, he simply yanked Hyungwon by the ear and dragged him away from the group. “If I catch you near them again…” He began to mutter furiously at him.

            Hyungwon tuned him out, and instead of listening, waved at the group behind his back. Though he couldn’t see them, he knew that they had waved back.

            If only he had known then that it’d be the last time they’d all be together.


	2. Chapter 2

            A chorus of booming voices sounded from up ahead of them.

            Shownu tensed, knowing that the voices could only belong to one source. And as the six of them neared, having left from their cozy spot under the bridge to go back to the main part of town, his suspicions were proven to be correct.           

           “Officers.” Minhyuk stated, apprehension coating his voice.

           “Great.” Jooheon chimed sarcastically. The expression of irritated dread on his face reflected the mood everyone in the group was feeling.

            As the lingering threat of the Clan continued to grow with each passing day, the town-runners had decided the best form of action to take was to implement increasing amounts of security within the town. As such, armies of officers poured into the town on a daily basis, sent there to protect the townspeople from the evildoings of the Clan.

            Except hardly any of them seemed to be legitimately qualified. Most of them hung around in lazy clumps, playing cards and belching out alcohol-induced burps, terrorizing any that dared look in their direction. They wore their badges like permits, signed directly by the government which gave them a free pass to do whatever they pleased without facing any consequences. And they did. And they constantly reminded everyone that they could. Shownu found it hard to truly respect them, as so far, they had done nothing to solve the problem of the Clan, and instead seemed to treat their duty in the town as a prolonged vacation.

            This time, their victims seemed to be a pair of elders, who were cowering with their hands up as a trio of officers jabbed the fronts of their bats into their stomachs and faces. Shownu recognized the couple. They were a friendly pair of botanists who stood near the main road on summer days selling flowers and bouquets to passerbys.

            A pit of dread wedged itself into his stomach as he neared. Their stand had been completely destroyed. Pots had been upturned and smashed, with their flowers stepped on and squished on the road, the remains looking like colorful blood stains on the cobblestone. Almost nothing had been spared, except for a small group of daises resting in the corner of the table—likely to be the next victim of the officers aggressions.

            Shownu turned to the group to see their reactions and potentially ask if they should take another route; but to no one’s surprise, Jooheon was already strutting his way towards the scene.

            “Hello.” He greeted the elders with a respectful bow, blatantly disregarding the officers. “I’d like to buy a flower.” He had already begun to pull out some cash from his back pocket.

            Both the officers and the elders seemed stupefied, frozen in place and unmoving. Jooheon held out the money expectantly, raising an eyebrow.

            “Whatever you’ve got. I’m not picky.” He prodded the money closer to them.

            “They’re not selling.” One of the officers seemed to finally regain his senses, the look of dumbfound melting off his face. He jabbed the front of the bat into Jooheons shoulder harshly, catching him off balance.

            Jooheon straightened himself out, ignoring the jab, and turned to him. He asked with a condescending curiosity, “Why not?”

            Minhyuk sighed a worn-out sigh besides Shownu, and he knew that they were both on the same page. With some reluctance, the five of began to walk towards Jooheon and the officers, knowing he was going to need some backup for his defiance.

            “There’s no permit.” The officer replied, with an ugly snare that made him look beastly. “Without a permit, this store can’t run.”

            “Okay, let’s get one thing clear here. It’s a stand not a store. Totally different thing.” Jooheon said. Shownu was amazed that the officer had let him get this far, though he was growing visibly irritated with each passing second. “Secondly, I have a right to shop wherever I please.”

            The officer stared at Jooheon for a moment, and Shownu couldn’t tell if he was either in shock that someone was speaking to him in such a disrespectful manner or if he was trying to assess how hard he’d need to hit Jooheon in the head with his bat to give him a concussion. Shownu guessed it was the latter.

            “Shut up kid.” Was his only response.

           “Oh, I will.” Jooheon reassured. “After I get my flower.” He disregarded the officer once more, turning his attention back to the stand.

            That’s when the officer decided to make his move at last. He lifted up the bat, aiming towards the back of Jooheon’s head—but as it descended, just before it could make impact, Jooheon caught it in his hand without even glancing backwards.

            Shownu blinked, not having time to process the event before it was over. He wondered how Jooheon could have reacted so quickly to the action. Lately, he had noticed, that Jooheon had become a lot more coordinated; a sharp contrast to his usual unobservant and clumsy self.

            “I’m trying to work out more.” Jooheon had said, in response to Shownu’s observation. “Even if I’m short, at least I’ll have good reflexes.” He then added in nonchalantly, “I also attend yoga class every Sunday.”

            Jooheon plucked the bat from the officer and carelessly discarded it into the street like it was nothing but trash. With that, he ignored the officer, making no further moves. Jooheon may have been known to have a rebellious streak, but he wasn’t entirely careless. Even he knew that reciprocating the actions would only achieve gaining a warrant for an arrest.

            Nonetheless, the officer wasn’t eager to let him off so easily. This time, he bunched up his fist and made a strong swing at Jooheon; who managed to step out of the way at the very last second, missing his punch by a skim of a hair. In a comical fashion, the officer hit nothing but air, and twirled around 180 degrees, before falling down on the last remaining bit of daisies. The stands table snapped and crashed, the pots shattering on the ground.

            The officer finally seized his attacks, perhaps realizing how unprofessional Jooheon was making him appear. With the last remaining bit of his pride, he glared at Jooheon icily. “We’ve got our eye on you.” He seethed through clenched teeth. “After all, these days anyone could be a member of the Clan.”

            Shownu froze and felt the tension in the air get heavier. It was clear what he was implying. The anonymity of the Clan was only another contributor to the people’s fears. Whenever they conducted attacks, they were reported to conceal their faces with terrifying masks or extravagant face paint. No one knew the true identities of any of the members of the Clan, and as such, anyone could be a member. One false claim of someone being a Clan member could ruin them permanently, despite any legitimate evidence.

            Even Jooheon was jolted for a bit, losing his cocky stance. But he was quick to compose himself. “Where’s your evidence?” He challenged defiantly, crossing his arms.

            “Alright.” Minhyuk pushed through the group to reach Jooheon. He placed an arm around him, one which Jooheon attempted to shake off. “My friend here has a big mouth. I apologize for the trouble, sir.” He bowed to the officer.

            Shownu could see that the use of the word ‘sir’ had calmed him slightly, but he was still undoubtedly heated. He pulled himself up off the ground, slapping dirt off his pants and picking up his bat from the street, and glaring at Jooheon as he did so.

            “I better not see any of you around.” He threatened, lifting up his bat with a snarl. Then, with one last glare at Jooheon that clearly stated he would not forget his defiance, he ordered the other two officers to follow him and all three walked away.

            Jooheons eyes didn’t leave them as they got smaller in the distance. “My mouth is perfectly normal-sized.” He said, as soon as the officers had fully disappeared from sight.

            Minhyuk snorted, shaking his head. “That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard.” He replied. “You need to learn when to not press your luck.”

            Jooheon opened his mouth, most likely to make a sassy retort, but then paused as he met Minhyuks eyes. The two stared at each other for a brief moment, and Shownu felt as though a silent private conversation was being passed between them, mute to everyone else’s ears.

            After a moment, Jooheon broke away from the stare, turning to the elder. “Here.” He said, at last succeeding in giving him the money.

            The man held the cash humbly, bowing in gratitude. “What would you like?” He said.

            Though there was nothing left but a collection of smashed petals and bent stems, Jooheon browsed through remains seriously, taking his time. Finally, he reached down and plucked one from beneath a pile of dirt. It was so destroyed, it was really nothing but a few crumpled up petals, as thin as tissue.

            “I like this one.” He said confidentially, twirling the remnants of what once had been a flower between his fingertips. 

            Shownu began to help the elders clean up, and the rest quickly joined in. There was nothing to save, really, except for a few flowers that had miraculously survived the rampage and were concealed under piles of dirt. They handled them as delicately as glass, attempting not to cause more damage than what had already been done. It wasn’t long before most of the mess had been tidied.

 “Thank you.” One of the elders said graciously, “You’re good kids.”

           Shownu handed him a flower that had fallen from the stand. It was a shade of bright violet and was somehow still in perfect condition, as if he had plucked it straight out of the pot. He said, with a sympathetic smile, “Just trying to help fix something that wasn’t right.”

\---------

             _CRASH._

            Hyungwon snapped up from his book. He had been reading the same phrase over and over, but to no avail. The old English was messing with his head, and the words did nothing but swirl in his brain like incomprehensible nonsense. The crash hadn’t assisted much in helping him focus.

            He peered at his window. The noise had sounded muffled, and definitely hadn’t come from anywhere within the house. With a decisive breath, he clapped the book shut and placed it down, getting up from his bed.

            As he approached the window, he saw with slight relief that the sun had already set. His father had sentenced him to spend the rest of the day completing his readings as his punishment, something that had quickly proven to be a cruel form of torture. Thankfully, it would be over soon.

            The window was fast debunked as an inadequate source of investigation, as nothing but the fire escape and the brick wall of the opposing building were visible. He leaned closer in, attempting to position his head in a way that might be able to see something; and that’s when he faintly heard the sound of shouts coming from people outside.

            That was the final straw. His curiosity had grown too strong, and he decided that he  _had_  to figure out what was going on. His eyes glanced at his bedroom door; if his father caught him sneaking out again, he’d be sentenced to any even longer and more gruelling punishment. But one little step outside couldn’t hurt, could it? He would be back before his father even blinked. Besides, if he didn’t figure out what was happening, he’d never be able to focus on his studies. His mind would only constantly wander to the sounds of chaos happening right outside his bedroom.

            So, resignedly, he opened up his window, and snuck down the fire escape.

            It didn’t take him long to find the source. After walking for only a couple of blocks, following the sounds of panicked and loud conversations like a dog led by an intoxicating scent, he stumbled onto a crowd.

            They were gathered in front of a tiny square-looking house. The large groups of bodies huddling shoulder-to-shoulder prevented him from seeing much, but after much persistence and shoving, he managed to push his way through to the front.

            He stopped. The windows of the house had been smashed in, the glass scattered across the street and reflecting the night stars. A multitude of items had been taken from the inside and sprawled on the ground, destroyed beyond repair and even recognition. But the most haunting sight of all was the giant black X that had been painted on the wooden door of the house; a bold statement of who the culprits of the attack were. The Clan. The symbol sent chills down Hyungwon’s spine.

            “Were you here when it happened?” Minhyuk asked, stepping beside him.

            Hyungwon jumped up, startled by the boys sudden appearance. He hadn’t heard him approaching. “No. I just got here.” He answered, trying to conceal the fact that Minhyuks presence had scared him, and that his heart was now pounding against his chest.

            Minhyuk shook his head, his eyes fixated on the ‘X’. “Nobody saw it happen. Seems like they just disappeared without a trace.”

            “Sometimes I wonder if what dad says is right…” Hyungwon confessed.

            “About what?” Minhyuk turned to him questioningly.

            Hyungwon clarified, “About the witchcraft.” His father had always made broad claims that the Clan used witchcraft to fulfil their evil deeds. Most of the time, Hyungwon disregarded it as babble. But sometimes, the Clan committed unexplainable actions, so strange that he couldn’t help but wonder if his father was correct. “It’s just that sometimes…”

            Minhyuk laughed, peeling his eyes away from the X to look at Hyungwon. “It’s not that.” He said surely. “Witchcraft doesn’t exist. They just know how to avoid being seen.”

            Minyhuk’s laugh made him forget everything else. “Probably.”

            They both turned back to the house. The owner had finally made his appearance and he looked---heartbroken. Hyungwon knew the man. He had never treated the group, or anyone really, with any kindness, but regardless Hyungwon didn’t think he deserved  _this._ Despite the man’s constant cold demeanour, Hyungwon couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He tried to imagine what the man could have done to invoke such a rage from the Clan, besides being unpleasantly rude.

A twinge of guilt hit him, one that he couldn’t describe-as if he had done the attack himself, somehow. But the thought was preposterous. He had done nothing but studying all day.

            Minhyuk seemed troubled by the sight as well. With a bothered look, he turned to Hyungwon and said, “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

            ---

            In the span of three days, four attacks had happened.

            Firstly, X’s had been discovered to be spray-painted in black over the windows of the history section of the library. Secondly, the entrance road into the town had been painted an abstract spectacle of blues, reds, and yellows—colors which were known to be the signature colors Clan members painted their faces with. Thirdly, and perhaps the most boldly of all, the Department of Security building had woken up to a beautiful display of bright blue flowers planted on their front lawn. Hyungwon questioned how they had accomplished such a feat, with the Department being the most guarded building in the entire town.

            But the fourth attack had affected Hyungwon’s father. In the front of the church, a bundle of blue flowers had been neatly placed.

            No one knew what the blue flowers meant. All people knew was that the Clan celebrated it and used it as a symbol. All that Hyungwon knew about it was that something about it was dangerous; and that, as soon as his father had spotted the sight, he had quickly burned them, and immediately gone on edge for the rest of the week.

            Hyungwon was forced to stay home. Partially because the town was going crazy with the paranoia of the Clan attacks buzzing in the air, but also because he was being punished for sneaking out again and was grounded from leaving the house without permission for the next few weeks. As such, he mostly relied on his fathers' boisterous complaints and preachings over the dinner table to assemble a picture of what was happening outside and quench his biting curiosity.

            That, and of course, he relied on his friends as well.

            “Hey.” Shownu greeted, as he entered Hyungwon’s room via the fire exit. “Want some grapes? We over-produced.” He held up a cloth bag that was stuffed with plump red grapes and felt like it weighed a ton. Shownu’s family were farmers, and because of that, Shownu had become the provider of overgrown vegetables and fruits. He was constantly bearing gifts of food to the group, none of which any of them had ever needed nor asked for.

            Jooheon, entering from behind him, stole a grape from the bag and placed it in his mouth. “You didn’t offer me any grapes.” He said to Shownu as he chewed.

            “That’s because you take them anyway.” Shownu replied, grabbing the bag away from him as he made an attempt to snatch it.

            “Irrelevant.” Jooheon waved his hand dismissively, making his way to Hyungwons bed and plopping down. “I would have appreciated the sentiment anyway.”

            Kihyun entered behind them, the last to arrive. “How long are you grounded for?” He asked Hyungwon as he climbed in carefully.

            “Another two weeks.” Hyungwon answered, with a heavy sigh.

            “That long?” Jooheon lifted his head up from Hyungwons bed, gawking.

            “Yeah.” He nodded solemnly. It had already felt like a year and only a few days had passed. Waiting for the end of his sentence was going to be difficult.

            “Don’t worry.” Shownu said encouragingly, “It’ll be over before you know it.”

            “Yeah.” Jooheon agreed. “And soon you’ll be free of his reign forever.”

            That was true. Hyungwon’s birthday was fast approaching. This birthday, he’d finally be turning of adulthood age, at which time he could move out and escape his father if he so pleased. But he hadn’t put much thought into it. He had never been allowed to have a job outside of helping with his fathers institutions, and thus had no money, no personal possessions, and no place he could stay. Staying with his father was his only option.

            “I don’t know.” Hyungwon said simply, leaning against the side of his bed and pulling his legs to his chest. “He wants me to become a priest like him.” He briefly recalled that his father had also had hopes of him being a doctor as well, but that had quickly proven to be too high of expectations, as Hyungwon had shown not to be intelligent enough for it.

            “Please don’t.” Jooheon crinkled his nose. “I don’t want to have to end our friendship.”

            “Hyungwon can do what he wants.” Shownu scolded.

            “I don’t want to.” Hyungwon admitted. The image of him in preacher robes, dedicating the rest of his life to studying, interpreting and preaching ancient passages appeared in his head. It was a thought he frequently imagined, and one that filled him with dread and anxiety.

            “Thank god.” Jooheon said. “Literally.”

             _But I don’t know if I have a choice…_ He wanted to add, but bit back the words. Instead, he plucked a grape from the bag and mindlessly chewed on it, silencing himself.

            “At least you get to be an adult soon. I still have two more years.” Kihyun whined.

            Jooheon chuckled, “Aha, suck to be you.”

            The four of them moved on to a different topic and in no time filled the air with their chatter. It felt good to be with friends, and Hyungwon's depressive thoughts about following his father’s footsteps dissolved from his brain, quickly replaced by laughter and light-hearted conversations.

            After awhile, there was a slight pause in their banter. Kihyun broke it, leaning in towards Hyungwon and saying in a hushed, more serious tone than they had been discussing in before, “Have you heard about everything that’s happening?

            “With the Clan?” Hyungwon assumed. “A little bit.”

            “It’s been crazy.” Shownu shook his head. “People are really paranoid. They don’t walk around as much. The farmer’s market didn’t even happen this week.” He said. “I hear that security’s going to increase.”

           Jooheon groaned, “What’s that gonna do?” He said, with a disapproving scoff.

           “It might be good.” Shownu supposed, attempting to be positive. “At least, it might be something to stop them.”

            Jooheon rolled his eyes, “So far most of the Clan's 'attacks' have been experimental art projects. The officers have done much worse damage.” He debated. “I’d rather wake up to a lawn full of pretty blue flowers than have it be in shambles because the officers decided that day they just didn’t like me.”

            “Dad says that this is exactly what the Clan wants, though.” Hyungwon chimed in. “Chaos.”

            “Well, it’s not chaos.” Jooheon said. “Not yet.” He got up from the bed, but not before stealing another handful of grapes. “Anyway, I gotta get going. I have a very important yoga meeting to attend to.”

            “Yeah, I better head out too.” Shownu stood up from the ground he had been sitting on. “Doesn’t your dad get back soon anyway?” Hyungwon nodded and Shownu shot him a sympathetic look.

            They said their goodbyes and parted ways, Hyungwon watching as they exited his room. As soon as they had left, he sighed and leaned his head back on the mattress of his bed.

            No, it wasn’t chaos, not yet. But Hyungwon couldn’t help but worry about what was to come.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

Shownu couldn’t sleep that night.

He felt sick. His stomach had been twisted up in knots, and there was an aching pang in his chest, as if his heart had been brutally ripped out. A lump was heavy and constant in his throat, yet tears refused to fall. They couldn’t.

He wished he would wake up suddenly, and have the whole day be nothing more than an awful dream. But the longer he stared at the darkened ceiling, listening to the hollowing night wind outside his window and trying to ignore the feeling of hopelessness consuming him, the more he realized how real the situation was. His mothers words repetitively rang in his head, each time more painful than the last. His grandmother was fatally ill.

The disease she had caught was deadly and rare. Getting treatment would require a tremendous amount of money. With six children, Shownu’s family’s finances were constantly stretched thin. And the recent deflation that had swept the town had left them barren of funds. They were already living off of overgrown potatoes and canned peaches. There was no possible way they’d be able to accumulate the amount they needed before it was too late. There was nothing to do.

So the next day, bags hanging heavy under his eyes, he went to visit her at the hospital.

The world was outside of him as he walked. Street noises were blurred like background static, and the people that passed him felt like they were in another world--one that moved two times faster than the one he was in.

“Shownu!”

An abrupt voice snapped him out of his fog. Slowly, he craned his neck to see the source; It was Jooheon, already halfway to him. 

“I called your name like three times. Have you gone deaf?” He lightly jabbed Shownu when he reached him. Shownu struggled to reach his eyes to make eye contact. When he managed to meet Jooheon’s coffee-colored pupils, the joking manner within them instantly diminished, and Jooheon became serious.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, concern lacing his voice.

Shownu swallowed, looking away and hoping to conceal his upset. He didn’t feel like talking about it to anyone, not even Jooheon. “Nothing.” He responded back, perhaps a little too sharply.

“Really?” Jooheon raised an eyebrow. “Because you look like hell. Seriously, what’s wrong?” Though Shownu had attempted to escape by walking away, Jooheon was quick to match his footsteps.

He let out a deep sigh, in realization that Jooheon wasn’t going to leave unless he told him. “My grandmother’s sick.” He finally confessed. Somehow, saying the words made him feel worse. As if the last strand of disbelief had been disintegrated, the statement confirming the reality of the situation finally.

Jooheon froze. His walking slowed. “I’m sorry---”

“It’s fine.” Shownu didn’t slow down his pace to match. “I just want to be alone.”

Jooheon let out an understanding nod. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He gave Shownu a small pat on his shoulder, and Shownu tried to ignore the pity in his eyes. Then he turned around and left, leaving Shownu alone once more.

The exterior of the hospital was pleasant-looking, designed, presumably, to be comforting to its miserable patrons and visitors. But instead the brightness of it mocked him. It looked sickingly optimistic, with a garden of colorful flowers and a front wall that had a mural of children playing in a wheat field. Shownu struggled to find it anything less than condescending of his situation. 

The inside was no different. It was pristine, neatly-kept, with rich paintings and floral plants to add color to the room. Shownu walked his way to the front desk, his shoes squeaking against the tiles. He became acutely aware of how dirty he was; he had finished up his farming duties early in the morning, and hadn’t bothered changing out of his clothes before coming.

The receptionist blinked up at him, a smile lacking on her face. “Yes?” She addressed him, flatly, and Shownu shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m here for a visit.”

The nurse led him down a narrow hallway that was sparsely decorated. There was the smell of something sweet and fresh, like a rose-scented perfume. But it had a sour aftertaste, as if it was there to cover up the putrid smell of death. An anxious feeling crept under his skin, and he felt the intense desire to turn around and escape.

The nurse stopped in front of one of the white doors, all of which looked the same, and took out a golden key. She pushed it in, and there was a distinct ‘click’ of it unlocking, and then pushed it open.

His heart skipped a beat.

The room was immediately visibly different than the rest of the hospital. It was so contrasting, he had to blink to make sure that it wasn’t an illusion. The walls, instead of being a creamy white, were hard cement. There was a single light infrastructure on the ceiling, which was dimly-lit and flickered so often. And it was entirely barren, the only slight decoration being a dying yellowish-brown plant resting on the side dresser, that practically was begging for water. As he entered, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was hauntingly like--a tomb.

He wanted to turn around and declare to the nurse that he was in the wrong room, that this couldn’t possibly be the right one, but she had already left him alone. There was a faint person lying on the thin bed in the corner of the room, though a white blanket that blended in with the sheets covered most of them. A breathing mask concealed a good portion of their face, which was connected to a monitor that let out a high-pitched beep every few seconds.

Hesitantly, he walked over the person, but the closer he got, the more he wanted to look away. The wrinkles became more apparent, and he began to realize just how pale she had grown. 

Finally, he broke his eyes away, and sat on the visiting chair beside the bed. He didn’t know how long he sat there in silence, collecting his thoughts and struggling to comprehend the fact that the person lying in front of him was his grandmother. He remembered her smiling, a healthy, warm glow that always seemed to surround her. She was like an immovable presence, somehow; and it didn't seem real to him that she could be here.

“Grandmother.” He finally spoke. Nothing but silence met him, her hollow and shallow breaths serving as the only response. “I’ll figure out a way to help you. Okay?” He didn’t know whether he was reassuring her or himself.

The door creaked open. High heels clacked their way into the room, until a voice spoke to him, “Visiting time is over.” It was feminine, but clipped and pressed.

He turned to look at the nurse. “Just a little bit longer, please.” The thought of leaving his grandmother in this state---in this place--was unbearable.

“We have a policy.” Her cold demeanor, Shownu thought, complimented the room.

Reluctantly, he gave in, getting up from the hard metal chair. “I’ll be back.” He stated firmly, and he swore, for a brief instance, a flicker of emotion was shown in his grandmother’s eyes.

When he exited the building, the sunlight felt foreign to his skin. He didn’t know how long he had been in there, sitting, brooding; but the brightness was off-putting and strange to him, as if he had been in a trance. He wondered about the patients that had been in there a long time; he wondered about his grandmother.

No, he was going to let her live like that. Die like that. He was going to figure out a way to get her treatment. Somehow.

* * *

Hyungwon had received the news before Shownu knocked on his window.

“We’re trying to leave him be.” Minhyuk explained. He was sprawled out on Hyungwon’s floor, having let himself in through the window. “He’s suffering a lot. He snapped at Jooheon the other day.” Hyungwon tried to imagine Shownu, who struggled to even politely request things, snapping at anyone-let alone Jooheon.

And then he showed up through his fire escape the next day.

“What’s up?” Hyungwon asked, sensing something was wrong. Shownu rarely ever visited him on his own.

“Hyungwon.” His voice was hushed and urgent. “I have a big favor to ask you.”

“Okay?” 

Shownu abruptly handed Hyungwon a crinkled paper bag. Hyungwon slowly grabbed it from him and was surprised by the lightness of it. He had half-expected it to be another crop, one that Shownu’s family had over-produced and needed to dispose of.

Curiously, he unwrapped the top, and opened it. 

He nearly dropped it on the ground.

“What’s this?” He gaped at the wads of cash. He couldn’t make out how much there was, but the bag was practically stuffed to the brim with large amounts of currency.

“It’s my payment for the treatment.” He explained. “It’s all the money I had saved for moving out. It should make up about an eighth of the amount. I know that it’s not a lot, but you can tell your dad he can have that for now, and I’ll pay him the rest back monthly. I’m planning on picking up some extra jobs.”

“I don’t--”

“Hyungwon, please.” He begged. “I’d never ask you for anything like this unless it was important. Just please try. He’s your dad. He might listen if it’s you.”

Hyungwon swallowed. He wanted to explain the situation to him. His father was a strict man, and even though he was his son, Hyungwon had no more power than anyone else. His father didn’t believe in exceptions.

But he knew Shownu was right. In all their years of friendship, he had not once asked him for anything. So instead, he looked up, and said, “I’ll try.”

It was a weak promise, but Shownu seemed to accept it, visible relief washing over his face. “Thank you.” He said. “I’ll find a way to repay you.”

Hyungwon smiled as best he could, “Okay.”

When Shownu exited, he stuffed the bag underneath his mattress, and began to formulate plans in his head. If he presented himself in a reasonable and logical manner, maybe, just maybe, his father would listen to him. After all, he was nearly an adult now; that had to garner some level of respect.

He intently listened to all his fathers ramblings that night at the dinner table, listening for the perfect opportunity to interject. His peas and pork lied untouched on his plate, the dread of asking having pushed the hunger from his stomach.

“This is why I believe it’s important to have faith instilled in kids at a young age.” He father preached. He had been on a rant about the Clan once more, spitting out beliefs in between chomps of pork. “This would have never happened if they had been taught the importance of faith. The faithless just go crazy and run rampant.” He shook his head disapprovingly. “Which is why I don’t want you hanging around those friends of yours. They have absolutely no values. Especially that short one.” Jooheon, Hyungwon knew.

This was the closest topic to Shownu that they’d reach. With a quick breath in, he spoke up. “Except Shownu.” He added, hoping to bring Shownu into a redeemable light.

“Which one’s that?” His father inquired, but Hyungwon could sense the disinterest in his voice.

“He’s the farmer’s son.” Hyungwon clarified. “He brings us food sometimes.”

“Ah.” Was his fathers only response.

“He actually wanted to ask you something.” He continued, before the topic could change.

That got his father’s attention. He looked up from his plate, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What?”

The dread in his stomach grew.  _ Keep a calm head,  _ he reminded himself,  _ if I’m reasonable, he might listen.  _ “Well, his grandmother’s actually one of your patients at the moment.” He began. “And he--um. He said he’s picking up some jobs and can pay you back monthly. For her treatment.”

“No.” His father replied back, and returned his focus to his food. Hyungwon’s heart sunk to his stomach.

“But--”

“I said no.” He was sterner this time, his words sharper. “He doesn’t get special treatment because he knows you. He pays like everyone else, and if he can’t, then he doesn’t get it.” He tutted, and muttered under his breath, “The youth nowadays are so entitled.”

Hyungwon could feel the air change, and he knew the conversation was about to switch. He blurted out, desperately. “But he already has some money prepared!”

His father slammed down his fork, and he flinched. “I said no.” His expression switched, and his eyes filled with suspicion. “How do you know this? Were you talking to him?”

Too late, Hyungwon had realized his mistake. “Well, I--”

“I thought I said no going out.” He had made a big mistake. His father was angry now, and there was no way he’d listen to him now.

“It was only for a little bit.” He lied, figuring it was better than confessing that it wasn’t him who left--it was the others that came to him.

“Go upstairs.” He ordered.

“Okay.” Hyungwon agreed. “But, father, please--”

“The discussion is closed.”

Hyungwon pleaded, “But Shownu--”

“I said go upstairs!”

The words were bellowed out and Hyungwon froze. He knew it was a lost cause. Further conversation would only result in more anger. Reluctantly he got up from his seat, and exited to his room.

The bag of money ate at him that night, and felt as if it was jabbing at him through the mattress. He could try and try again and again, but the more he pestered his father, the less likely he’d be to accept Shownu’s offer. He wanted to help Shownu; but how could he?

Before he finally went to sleep that night, he completed his nightly prayers. But this time, he dedicated a prayer for Shownu and his grandmother.

* * *

 

_ If you could choose, between reality and your dreams, what would you chose? _

__ _ I’d like to dream forever. _

* * *

 

Minhyuk visited him the next day.

“You’ll have to be quiet.” Hyungwon warned him as he entered. “My dad’s on extra lookout today.”

“Why?” Minhyuk caught on and lowered his voice to a whisper.

Hyungwon sighed, “He found out I was talking to you guys.”

Minhyuk exhaled, visibly irritated, “You’re almost an adult. When’s he going to stop being so strict?”

Hyungwon shrugged. He knew there was truth in Minhyuk’s words. He was on the cusp of adulthood, yet he still felt unprepared for all the responsibilities that came with it. His father had offered him little assistance in the department; the only preparation he had ever received was in his religious studies. Other than that, his father had continued to keep an iron grip on him, as always.

A slight part of him felt the need to defend his father. “He’s helping me how he can.”

Minhyuk didn’t look pleased, but regardless, moved on. “How’d he even find out?” He asked.

Hyungwon got up and dug underneath the mattress. He pulled out the bag, and then handed it to Minhyuk without offering clarification. Minhyuk looked at him, confusion speckling his eyes, then opened up the bag.

His eyes immediately widened, and Hyungwon broke into telling the story. A sense of relief washed over him; he hadn't realized how burdening the situation had been until he began to confide. 

When he finished explaining everything, Minhyuk grew upset. “Why not? He’ll still pay!”

“I tried to explain that, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” Hyungwon slumped down on the floor, leaning his back against the side of his bed.

Minhyuk sat down beside him, running a hand through his neat, cloud-colored hair. “That’s not fair.” He huffed. Hyungwon could already see the gears beginning to turn in his head. “Maybe, if we all contributed to the fund…”

“I don’t have anything to give.” Hyungwon admitted sheepishly. Not having a job was yet another one of his father's restrictions, stating that Hyungwon's first and only priority should be his studies. 

“It’s fine.” Minhyuk said understandingly, but his eyes were still clouded by thoughts. He subconsciously bit his bottom lip--and Hyungwon’s heart stopped.

He quickly looked away. Lately, he had begun to feel strange around Minhyuk. He couldn’t quite place what was different, but sometimes, something in the air changed between them. It was an atmosphere shift that was electric and odd, and unlike anything he had experienced between them before. He wondered if Minhyuk sensed it too.

There was just something different about Minhyuk nowadays. The way he smiled with the slight dimple in his left cheek. How his voice got louder when he told jokes, and how he couldn’t help but laugh before he finished them. How he always thought of others before himself, how he had a tiny mole resting above his top lip; little tidbits he had known their entire lengthy friendship, but only recently had begun to pay attention to.

And when Minhyuk bit his lip when he was in deep thought, Hyungwon felt his stomach twist in a way that was unusual but--not unpleasant. He knew he should close himself off, ignore the tense atmosphere that was surrounding him; but he just couldn’t. It had been a long week, and Minhyuk’s presence was comforting.

“--If we all were to contribute that way, we could get...maybe a little under half.” Minhyuk concluded, and Hyungwon realized guiltily that he hadn’t been paying attention. “But maybe that’ll be enough to convince him?” He turned to him expectantly.

Inwardly, Hyungwon knew it was a stretch. Making deals with his father was like grasping for invisible straws. But Minhyuk was looking up at him so hopefully, he found himself instead saying, “Maybe.” He let out a sigh. “But I can’t bring it up again. He’ll know I was speaking to you, and he’ll refuse to listen after that.”

Minhyuk grew quiet for a brief moment, slipping back into silent thought. Then he promptly looked up and stated firmly, “Then I’ll speak to him.”

Hyungwon’s mouth dropped. “You’ll talk to him?”

Minhyuk nodded. “If he won’t listen to you, maybe he’ll listen to me.” He could hear a tiny bit doubt hidden in Minhyuk’s determined tone. It was no secret that the two had a silent but mutual disapproval of one another. 

“I hope so.”

“I hope so too.” Minhyuk replied. “For Shownu.”

* * *

Minhyuk did something he hadn’t done for a very long time. He knocked on the front door to Hyungwon’s house.

He tried to disregard the nervous tension that was eating him up from inside. He knew Hyungwon’s father, and knew that he was a stern and backwards man stuck in his ways. The potential of him listening was low, but he still had to make an attempt.

He went over the plan once more in his head. After an emergency consultation with the group, everyone had agreed to donate what they could to Shownu.

“I’ll get another job.” Wonho offered. He had already held and lost five jobs prior, but was insistent on the fact it was solely because he ‘was clumsy’.

Jooheon had given him the money straight away. “I have more if you need it.” Minhyuk silently questioned where he had obtained so much, but decided it was better not to pry.

Together, they had already acquired a decent amount. And with Changkyun’s final donation, a generous sum of his savings, Minhyuk had right to believe they were at the one-fourth mark. It wasn’t the full amount for the treatment, but Minhyuk felt pretty confident that they were on good footing for a negotiation.

His certainty faltered when Hyungwon’s father answered the door.

“He’s grounded. No guests.” Was the greeting he was offered.

“I know.” Minhyuk quickly interjected, before he had time to shut the door. “I didn’t come here to see him.”

He stopped mid-way to close, opening the door only a fragment of an inch more. “Then what do you want?” His voice had already grown impatient. He’d have to make his case fast.

“I came here to discuss Shownu’s grandmother. She’s one of your patients.”

“You can tell him the answer is no.” He made a motion to close the door once more.

“Sir.” Minhyuk aggressively stuck his foot between the door and wall, preventing it from closing. “We have a good deal of the money. I’m certain within the next three months, we’ll have the treatment paid in the full.”

“I don’t make exceptions.” He replied back. There was an annoyingly condescending undertone to his voice, as if he viewed Minhyuk as nothing but a foolish child.

“Surely, just this one time--”

“If I make one exception, then I have to make exceptions for everyone.” He stated, matter-of-factly. “The hospital does not have the funds to doll out rainchecks to every patient. I’m sure there are plenty of other families who would love to be given the opportunity as well. It’s just not feesable.”

“But you WILL be paid.” He tried once more to make his case. “I promise you that. We’ll even...we’ll even offer our services to assist you at your church and hospital as well.” Minhyuk could practically hear Jooheon groaning at the prospect.

There was a brief silence, and Minhyuk was hopefull that perhaps he was mulling it over. Then he looked up and said, firmer than ever, “If you ever have a real offer, you can contact the hospital directly. Now don’t disturb me again.”

The door was shut in his face.

He clenched up his fists, feeling frustration take over him. It was infuriating; he might as well have completed a conversation with a brick. What kind of holy man was he not to want to help in the face of the sick and the needy? He was nothing but a pretentious fool. He questioned how Hyungwon could deal with such a man--care about him, even. Every time Minhyuk was near him, he felt his skin crawl and his blood begin to boil. He wanted to knock down the door and force him to accept the deal.

Instead, he dejectedly walked away, kicking stray stones on the path back. His brain desperately tried to spot loopholes in the situation. Only one option kept popping up. But….no. He couldn’t. Not now. Not even for Shownu.

* * *

 

“It’s alright.” Shownu reassured.

Minhyuk had come over to explain the situation to Shownu, and potentially brainstorm a new solution together. Shownu had been hard to find recently. He mostly stayed in his room in isolation, rejecting visitors that came to him. Minhyuk had never seen him in such a state. And as they talked, Minhyuk standing on the doorstep to Shownu’s house, he couldn’t help but notice how heavy the bags under his eyes appeared and how sickly pale he looked. It was a pitiful sight to see, and one that filled him with even more motivation.

He gave Minhyuk a faint smile, one that felt forced and hung on his lips for only a millisecond. “It was wishful thinking.”

“We’ll get it somehow.” Minhyuk encouraged.  “We’ll all pick up extra jobs to help.”

“You guys don’t have to do that.” He insisted. “Keep your money.”

“We want to help.” Minhyuk persisted. 

“I want you to save your money.” Shownu met back equally. “Please. This is my responsibility.”

Minhyuk let out a deep breath. He wanted to help Shownu, but Shownu was a stubborn and selfless soul, and even if they did help, he knew he wouldn’t accept it. It was entirely for that reason Minhyuk had gone behind Shownu’s back to collect the money and consult with Hyungwon's father.

“If you ever need our help, please, just say the word.” He practically pleaded, with all the sincerity he had.

“I know.” Shownu replied. He let out another smile, still forced and small, but this one lingering for just a moment longer.

Shownu watched as Minhyuk walked away, and felt the knots in his stomach grow deeper. He had already gone through a million ways to gain the money in his head, but no matter how many possibilities he dwelled on, nothing seemed to work out. Even if the group did try to help, they wouldn't be able to make the amount they needed in time. No, with each passing moment, his grandmother grew sicker. It was only a matter of time before the disease overtook her. He needed money fast and instantly.

It was these thoughts that fueled his sulking that day, as he found himself walking to the hospital. He had been avoiding going, swearing not to visit again until he had thought of an answer; he couldn't bare looking at his grandmother in such a state with the guilt of not being able to do anything consuming him. But hopelessness had finally won, and if he wasn't able to save her, then he wanted to see her as much as he could before the inevitable. 

A body slammed into him.  He stumbled backwards, nearly falling over onto the pavement. He muttered something like an apology, but by the time he had gotten it out, the person who had ran into him had already disappeared. Subconsciously, his eyes flickered to see the building he had exited from so suddenly.

‘City Bank’

Shownu froze.

He was struck with a sudden, terrible idea.   
  
  



	4. Chapter Four

He visited his grandmother that night.

He tried to ignore the fact that she had grown a considerable amount paler, that her wrinkles seemed heavier, and the moles more protruding on her face. It was disturbing to see, so instead he found his eyes cast to the ground. Two untouched cups of water rested on the dresser beside him. 

Yet, somehow, he didn’t feel sorrowful. Sitting in the dimly-lit room, listening to the high-pitched beeps of the monitor mixed in with his grandmother’s shallow breaths; it all instilled him with a strange sense of determination. He found his moral obligations fleeting away, his conscious stifled by a newfound desperation. 

“I’ll help you.” He said to her. “I’ll get you out of here.” He spoke the words with ferocious conviction, as if just by saying them, he could make them true. “No matter what it takes.”

Finally, he found the strength to pry his eyes from the tiled floor and look at her. His words became true at the sight.  _ Whatever it takes. _

The nurse came to usher him out, and he got up without a word of protest. He left the room that day with a feeling of burning vengeance surging through his veins.

* * *

Jooheon didn’t know why Shownu had requested they meet at such a late hour, but judging by the urgency that had been in his voice, he knew it was serious.

So he waited. And waited. And waited for Shownu’s arrival, boredly tapping his fingers along the side of a forgotten crate in the moonlit darkness. 

After long, a shadow approached. Though he couldn't make out all its features, Jooheon could identify the tall, muscular physique as Shownu's. “What’s up?” Jooheon addressed. “Here to sell me some drugs?” He joked.

Shownu had neared him now, and some of the darkness that had been clinging on his face disintegrated. There was a nervousness in his eyes, which was further highlighted by the way he constantly fidgeted with his fingers.

“Jooheon. I’m asking this as a friend.”

With a greeting line like that, Jooheon knew he was in for trouble. “Oh boy.”

“You’re the only one I feel like I can trust in this situation.” Shownu’s voice was pleading. Jooheon raised his eyebrows, intrigued. “But it’s crazy.”

“Well, you know me.” He gave in, shrugging. “I’m all about crazy.”

Shownu took a deep breath in, then began. “Well….”

* * *

Hyungwon wasn’t surprised when he received the news. He hadn’t really been expecting Minhyuk to succeed. Still, he bit back the disappointment creeping at him when Minhyuk told him how it had went.

“I wish I could convince him somehow.” He let out a prolonged sigh after Minhyuk concluded his story.

“You’ve done enough.” Minhyuk reassured. 

Hyungwon knew the words were intended to be comforting, but they couldn’t help but come across as condescending. As if he was being viewed as a child. He knew the group felt a certain level of responsibility to protect him, largely because of his dependence on his father; and it was frustrating. It was as if he was the youngest, not Kihyun.

“No. I can try again.” He persisted. “I can--” He thought about the possibilities. Threatening his father. Telling him he’d run away if he didn’t agree. Rebelliously stating he’d denounce religion and never study again. But the thought was short-lived as reality was quick to brush it aside. The only thing making such bold threats would accomplish is punishment; or worse, he’d be kicked to the streets.

Minhyuk placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and suddenly, all of his worries subsided. “Don’t feel guilty over it. Shownu doesn’t want you to.”

But Hyungwon did feel guilty. He felt guilty because he couldn’t do anything. He felt guilty because he was related to his father. And he felt guilty because, despite all this, Minhyuk’s hand was the only thing he could focus on.

“Minhyuk.” He finally spoke.

“Yeah?” Minhyuk replied, giving him a small smile that made his heart skip a beat. 

“I think I’d like to be left alone for awhile.”

Minhyuk’s smile faltered, a hint of concern in his eyes. But regardless, he obliged. “Yeah okay.” He got up from the floor, making his way to leave. “Just don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?” Hyungwon gave him a nod.

As soon as he had exited, Hyungwon leaned back on the side of his bed, letting out a long breath he hadn’t known he had been holding in.

There was no denying it now. He had avoided addressing it, praying that ignorance would eventually dissolve the problem. But now, as he sat, his mind constantly flickering to Minhyuk’s smile, and his heart pounding against his chest; he had come to the conclusion he had been so desperately trying to avoid. 

He had feelings for Minhyuk.

_ Oh no.  _

\----

Two days had passed since Jooheon and Shownu had met under the bridge.

This time, their location of meeting was a secluded alleyway lodged between two abandoned brick buildings. Jooheon had reassured Shownu that such a place would be perfect; no one ever visited this side of town, and so the chances of their conversation being overheard were slim to none. 

Jooheon’s eyes pierced through Shownu. Shownu had rarely seen them so deadly serious before. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

Shownu paused for a moment. The heavy grimness in Jooheon’s eyes was making him reconsider--but no. It was drastic, but it was his only last-ditch effort. With a gulp, he confirmed, “Yes.”

Jooheon eyed him warily for a few moments. Then he slipped the duffel bag he had brought off his shoulder, and wedged it in between the two. With a slow hand, he grasped the zipper and opened it, revealing what was inside.

The first item Shownu's eyes were drawn to were two guns resting in the center. They were just small pistols, and were meant to be used for intimidation---but the thought of threatening people with them, the potential of using them; it made his stomach sick.

They were rested on top of a folded cream-colored fabric, and he peered at Jooheon curiously. Jooheon didn’t respond, but merely motioned with his head as encouragement for Shownu to continue digging. With reluctance, Shownu pushed the guns aside, and pulled it out.

He froze. It was a mask, neatly pressed, but with sloppily-cut out circular slots for the eyes and mouth. Black fabric was outlined around the slots, giving it the haunting resemblance of a gas mask. Shownu stared at it, in frozen horror. People who had been unfortunate enough to see a clan attack vividly talked about the grotesque masks they wore. As Shownu held the mask up, it felt like he was looking at an urban myth.

He was quick to stuff it back in the duffel bag, with vigor and slight disgust, as if by touching it, he was cursing himself. “This isn’t…”

“Listen.” Jooheon interjected. “If we make it appear like a Clan attack, people will be less likely to suspect us. Suddenly, it’s an attack on the government, or the people, or how currency works, or whatever bullshit people can pull from their asses about the meaning behind it.”

“I don’t…” 

“Just trust me on this one.” Jooheon persisted. “If we commit this crime as two members of society, then the local police will get involved. Society will be upturned in a manhunt to find the criminals. But instead, as two members of the clan, it’ll fall to the officials duty, and they won’t do shit.” He then added in, “And you know how this town works. People would go on a witchhunt for the culprits if it was a normal crime. But they’re terrified of the Clan. They’re less likely to go after us.”

“But what about the actual Clan?” Shownu argued. “They’ll target us.”

Jooheon sneered. “How will they know who we are?” He challenged. “Besides, if they get pissed off, who cares. More blue flowers. More painted X’s. Whatever.”

Unable to think of a counter-point, he paused. “How’d you get the masks?”

Jooheon shrugged. “I mean, they’re not that hard to make.”

Shownu took a moment to collect himself. The thought of wearing the mask and associating himself with the Clan repulsed him, but he trusted Jooheon’s reasoning. 

With a reluctant breath, he gave in. “Are you sure you want to be a part of this?” He asked Jooheon, for what felt like the hundredth time. He hadn’t intended for Jooheon to partake in the crime; he had only asked if he would be able to provide the supplies. Shownu knew Jooheon had a lot of shady connections within the town, and he often felt like a lot of Jooheon’s life was clouded in mystery. Still, he trusted Jooheon more than anybody, and he trusted that he’d be able to provide what Shownu needed. But as soon as Shownu had stated the plan, Jooheon had become adamant on coming along. 

“Yes.” He confirmed once more. “I know you. You’re a huge softie. Without me, you’ll end up getting yourself caught. Or killed.”

Even though Shownu felt guilty about it, he couldn’t help but feel relieved at the statement. “Thanks.”

Jooheon tried to shrug it off. “Listen I’m just trying to prevent your funeral. I’m not good at preparing speeches, so I’d rather not have to give a eulogy for you.”

Shownu questioned again how Jooheon could remain nonchalant about the event.  Once it was over, they’d be wanted criminals. They’d have hurt a lot of people. Shownu tried to ignore the fact, reminding himself once more of his grandmother lying in the hospital.

“Tomorrow then?”

Jooheon nodded. “Tomorrow.”

* * *

“I’m feeling sick.” Hyungwon said when Minhyuk showed up the next day. “I think I’m just going to lie down and do nothing.”      

Minhyuk returned the next day to check on him. “I think I just need sleep.” He had excused.

And so it continued on, each day Hyungwon giving Minhyuk some new excuse to get him to leave. He had a headache. He was really tired. He was behind on his studies, and really needed to focus on them before his father got home. 

It didn’t take long for Minhyuk to catch on.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, stepping into the room despite Hyungwon’s lie that he was struggling with a splitting headache.

“No.” He disproved. The only person he was mad at was himself.

“Then why are you suddenly so sick all the time?” Minhyuk peered at him suspiciously. “You barely ever get sick.”

“I guess it’s all caught up to me.” He said, letting out a vicious fake cough.

“I thought you had a headache, not a cough.”

He fiercely avoided making eye contact. “I guess I’ve developed a cough now too…”

“Okay. You can’t even look me in the eye.” Minhyuk crossed his arms. “Seriously, what’s wrong? Is this about Shownu’s grandmother?”

That wasn’t it, but Hyungwon would be lying if he said he hadn’t been struggling with that as well. It haunted him every night. Each evening at dinner, he told himself he’d bring it up to again, only to end up eating in silence and going to bed with a stomach twisted up in guilt. He knew confessing that would only worry Minhyuk, who would want to stay and talk about it. So instead, he said, “I’m just sick.”

“Okay.” Minhyuk clearly didn’t believe him. “And if I come over again tomorrow, you’ll be sick again too?”

Hyungwon sighed. He knew he couldn’t avoid Minhyuk forever. “I just don’t want to talk about it right now, okay?”

“So something IS bothering you.” There was a hint of victory in his voice. “Is it about your father?”

“No.” Hyungwon replied, though his father did play a role. He knew that if his father learned of how he was feeling, he’d be in deep trouble. He could imagine his anger, his disappointment, disgust—it was part of the reason why he felt so awful.

“Is it about Shownu’s grandmother?”

“No.” That was a whole other problem on its own.

“Is it about me?”

He froze, and realized too late that he had been too slow on his ‘No’.

“It IS about me.” Minhyuk realized. “Why? Did I do something wrong?”

“Nothing.” Hyungwon admitted. “You did nothing.”  _ I’m the one at fault here. _

“I must have done something.” He pushed. “You’ve been ignoring me for the past five days straight.”

“I just—“ He stumbled to think of a lie, but came up empty. “I just don’t want to talk about it, alright?” He tried to be harsher with his words this time round, but he felt them spit out of his mouth too sharply. He recoiled at the ferocity in them.

Minhyuk was silent for a moment, and Hyungwon fought back the temptation to look at him.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said. “If I upset you.” Somehow, that hurt worse than him retaliating. 

He tried to bite his tongue, but couldn’t control the words as they escaped him, “Minhyuk, wait!” He stopped the boy before he could exit.

Minhyuk paused, turning back around. He looked at Hyungwon and raised his eyebrows expectantly, and Hyungwon felt all of the nerve he had manifested melt away, his knees becoming weak. His heart started to pound. No, no, he couldn’t do this. 

But what choice did he have now? Minhyuk was already staring at him, expecting an explanation. He had put himself in this situation and he couldn’t back out now. 

He chewed on the inside of his lip, stuttering, “I---” He took a shaky breath in.

“Want to sit down?” Minhyuk offered. Hyungwon nodded, suddenly feeling actually sick, and sat down on the bed. Minhyuk made his way over and sat down beside him.

He turned away from him, unable to meet Minhyuk’s eyes. How was he supposed to go about this? How did he describe it? He imagined Minhyuk, looking at him repulse. Judging him. Hating him. It fueled his nerves.

With one more breath in, his hands shaking, he said, “Please don’t look at me differently.”

“Of course not.” Minhyuk reassured. Hyungwon could hear the worry in his voice. 

Hyungwon fiddled with his fingers, attempting to delay time as much as possible. “I--” He coughed. “Um.” He struggled. It was as if he had forgotten how to speak, the words he wanted to say tasting like acid to his lips. “I think I--I feel um--differently. Towards you.”

“You don’t want to be friends anymore?” Minhyuk assumed.

“No!” Hyungwon shot out. “I just--I mean, I think I feel, um, more than. More than friendship.” He was surprised his chest hadn’t ripped open by now, with his heart beating so furiously. “I think I feel something I’m not supposed to feel. Like um. I like you. As more than a friend. I think.” He finally vomited out the words, stumbling as he did so. He got up from the bed, walking away from Minhyuk. The pounding of his heart was so loud, it rang in his ears and drowned out everything else. 

Minhyuk didn’t say anything. He didn’t come after Hyungwon. The silence that hung in the room felt like it lasted an eternity. 

And then Minhyuk began to laugh.

Hyungwon felt as though his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on. Why was he laughing? Oh god, Minhyuk really did think he was weird. He was laughing at his feelings--at him. Was it the type of laughter that stemmed from disgust? He felt his face burn hot with shame, and suddenly he wished the ground would swallow him up, make him disappear forever.

“Forget it.” He quickly said, attempting to salvage at least a tiny bit of their friendship. “Just forget I said anything. Please.” He felt tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. Desperately, he tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. The only thing that could make the situation more humiliating was if he cried. 

“No, no, no.” Minhyuk laughter quickly faltered. “I’m sorry. I’m laughing because--I’m relieved.”

Hyungwon hadn’t been anticipating that. “What? Why?” 

“Because.” Minhyuk got up and neared Hyungwon. He stepped in front of him, and Hyungwon cast his eyes away, avoiding looking at him. “I feel the same.”

“Huh?” Was all he could get out, stupefied, and unable to formulate proper words.

“I feel the same about you.” Minhyuk continued. “I’ve felt it for awhile. But I never told because…” He trailed off, paused for a moment, then said, “Well. I just didn’t think you’d feel the same.”

Minhyuk’s words had somehow melted away all of the bad feelings. His fears and doubts left him, and he felt his heart swelling. Suddenly, he understood why Minhyuk had laughed; he felt the desire to laugh as well, out of relief and joy. “I don’t--” He couldn’t manage to make out the words to finish his sentence.

Minhyuk began to laugh again, and this time, Hyungwon joined him. Hyungwon’s hands met Minhyuk’s. A flood of emotions washed over him, making his laugh sound almost hysterical. “I can’t believe--”

“You had me so worried.” Minhyuk shook his head, his smile wide.

The word worry suddenly snapped him back into reality. What was he doing? They doing? He pulled his hands away, flinching as the warmth in Minhyuk’s touch was replaced by the cold air.

Minhyuk’s smile dropped slowly. “What? What’s wrong?”

“This.” Hyungwon replied back. “We can’t--” He tried to speak, but his words were being cut off by the overwhelming amount of conflicting emotions swirling around inside of him, all of which were fighting for dominance.

Minhyuk stepped in front of Hyungwon, leaning down and forcing them to make eye contact. Hyungwon tried to determine if it was sympathy in them. “Don’t believe everything your father tells you.”

“It’s not just what he says.” Hyungwon said, trying to get Minhyuk to understand. But in all honesty, he was more scared of his father than he was of anything else. “It’s--everywhere.”

“So?” Minhyuk said, with so much conviction in his voice, Hyungwon found himself questioning it too. “Who cares about everyone else? If we both feel this way, then what’s the problem?”

Hyungwon found it hard to protest against him. After all the emotions he had gone through, he was tired, and didn’t want to. “So you don’t think it's--weird?”

" No.” Minhyuk without missing a beat.

And with that, Hyungwon realized he didn’t care. He didn’t care about what anyone else might think. All he cared about was the fact that Minhyuk still liked him. And that Minhyuk felt the same.

“So is this—Are we--?” He tried to get out the words, but fell short.

He was made aware of the closing space between them; and before he could even think about what he was doing, he found himself subconsciously leaning in too.

Minhyuk’s lips met with his. It was small, nothing more than the brushing of lips, but it was nice. It felt like a refreshing and pleasant breeze.

And then his bedroom door opened.

His father had gotten home early.

 


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter hints at suicide, so be warned)

“You ready?”

The alley behind the bank was secluded, but the sounds of the town were still dangerously close. Shownu could hear the murmurs of passerbys and the clanking of their shoes against the cement pavement. Him and Jooheon spoke in hushed tones, careful not be heard.

Jooheon’s question was impossible to answer. He wasn’t ready; no, he’d never be ready. Holding the mask and gun in his palms made him feel out of himself. The reality of the situation hadn’t fully processed in his brain still, and it felt as if the two were discussing a fictional ploy; not real life.

So, no, he wasn’t ready. But he had to be. There was no backing out now. So he nodded.

Jooheon gave him a short nod in response, then pulled the mask over his face. Even though Shownu knew it was Jooheon behind the mask, the sight was still disturbing. He quickly pulled his over his face, the material scratchy against his face and uncomfortable.

He grabbed the gun, placing his finger just above the trigger. There were no bullets in it, a fact that Shownu knew, but could find little comfort in.

Just before they left the alley, Jooheon gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “Whatever happens, we’re in this together.” Shownu nodded.

Then the two exited.

* * *

Everything ached.

Hyungwon couldn’t determine what hurt the most. The isolation. The speeches ranted at him from places of disapproval and abhorrence. Or the bruises.

Minhyuk visited him the day after. Though he had been grounded before, it seemed that this time, it was unlikely he was ever going to see the light of day again. He had been punished for an undetermined amount of time, sentenced to spending his days painfully reading the scriptures over and over again, and studying until his eyes felt like they were burning.

Minhyuk was quiet sneaking in, and he pressed his back against the wall to avoid detection, as his father had unscrewed his door, removing the last ounce of privacy he had. Though his father was thankfully gone for the time being, Hyungwon knew that was false sense of security. Despite his obligations to deliver his weekly preaches, his father had still been stopping in every so often to check on him.

As soon as he heard the window creaking open, he shot up from his bed and turned himself away. He didn’t want anyone, especially Minhyuk, to see him like this. He felt ashamed and embarrassed, and just wanted to be left alone to sulk.

“Hyungwon.” Minhyuk called his name softly. He could hear his footsteps slowly creaking towards him on the floorboards. “Show me your face.”

He turned his back on Minhyuk, attempting to hide himself from Minhyuk. “No.”

Minhyuk had reached Hyungwon, and placed a tender hand on his shoulder. “Hyungwon. Please.”

Hyungwon couldn’t muster up enough strength to continue resisting. Without saying a word, he turned around. He kept his eyes cast on the ground as he revealed his face to Minhyuk, unable to meet his eyes.

There was nothing but silence for a moment. Hyungwon could feel Minhyuk’s eyes as they trailed over his face, with lingering inspection on every bruise and cut on his face. Though the blood had long since been dried and the pain had subsided to a dull throbbing, he felt them burn once more under Minhyuk's gaze.

“How long?” Minhyuk asked in an unidentifiable tone.

“How long?”

“How long has this been going on?” There was a sharpness in his words, as if he was clenching his jaw as he spoke.

Hyungwon swallowed. “Since I was a kid.” He answered honestly. He quickly added, “But never consistently. Only when...I upset him. Or if he’s upset. But he’s never struck my face before.”

“It’s been going on this whole time we’ve known each other?”

Hyungwon could barely lift his head to nod. “Yes.”

Minhyuk fell silent and Hyungwon finally found the strength to pry his eyes off the floorboards to meet Minhyuk's.

He looked furious. There was a fire burning in his normally soft eyes that Hyungwon had never seen before. It met him with such ferocity, Hyungwon didn’t know how to react.

Then Minhyuk abruptly turned and walked away, without saying another word. Hyungwon didn't bother to call after him, instead watching him go, feeling a hollowness build up inside him.

He had really messed up this time. Not only was his father upset at him, but now Minhyuk was as well.

That night, he watched his father wordlessly nail in wooden boards on his window, banging the hammer down with fierce movement. The window was his only source of communication and escape, and as his father silently took away that as well, he wondered if he’d ever get to see the group again. See Minhyuk again.

It felt like...it was all over.

* * *

Shownu stared at the money.

He had never seen so much currency in his life. There were piles and piles of thick wads of paper, stuffing the duffel bag to a brim, and filling it to the point where it looked horribly swollen and to the point of bursting. He held some in his hands, mindlessly trickling his fingers through it.  Strangely, he didn’t feel guilty. In fact, he didn’t feel anything at all. It felt unreal, and even though he could feel it wasn't, it still seemed like an illusion. 

Jooheon yanked off his mask. The two had escaped successfully, but it had been too close for comfort. Shownu did feel a gratitude towards the boy; if it hadn't been for him, Shownu was sure he would have been caught. 

Jooheon breathed heavily and rubbed his chest with discomfort. “Well.” He finally spoke. “We did it.”

Shownu didn’t say anything in response. He didn’t know what emotion he was supposed to feel. He found it hard to feel relieved.

“That was way too much exercise, huh?” Jooheon attempted to lighten the tense atmosphere, but clearly was out of it himself. When Shownu failed to respond again, his eyes firmly locked on the money, he gave up. “We should get back quickly before anyone figures out where we went to. C’mon.”

Shownu reluctantly followed his lead, changing his clothes and stuffing everything into the different bags they had brought and discarding the one they had used. As they walked back to the town, Shownu felt the reality hit him. They had succeeded. His grandmother was going to be alright.

Even if he was a criminal.        

* * *

 

The news swept across the town fairly quickly.

As far as Shownu was concerned, he was in the clear. The mutters of gossip that passed by him seemed to reveal the majority consensus was dismissing it as a clan attack. Just as Jooheon had anticipated, many were attempting to find a reason behind it. Some claimed it was an attack on currency, that the Clan was boldly making a statement about the insignificance of money to them. Some said it was for intimidation, or for execution of power. 

But occasionally, he’d catch glimpses of doubt. People saying how strange it was of the Clan to do such an attack. That it was a little too unfitting with the usual Clan attacks. 

Jooheon warned him to stay low for a little while. Presenting the money right away would draw suspicions to him. It was best for him to wait until the attack was slowly slipped from peoples minds, or at least not so prominently on their tongues. Shownu listened, but each moment that he passed waiting felt agonizing. With each second having the potential to be his grandmother’s last, he knew he couldn’t wait too long.

With his mind made up, he decided to wait one more day, and then he’d present the money to the hospital. And then his grandmother would get treatment. And she'd get better. And life would go back to normal.

That was the plan.

Until the next day, his mother greeted him with the news.

“She’s passed away.”

* * *

 

It was his eighteenth birthday.

Hyungwon had planned to spend it with the group. But instead, he sat alone, trapped in his room. Even if his friends wanted to visit him, they couldn’t. His father had made sure of that. Isolation was his only birthday present.

He knew that his father, legally, didn’t have any power over him now. If he wanted to see everybody, by all technical terms, he could leave. But that wouldn’t change anything. No, he had to stay by his father. He had to make him proud. He was the only thing his father had, and even though he had been a mistake, he had to prove he was a good one. And he couldn’t do that by running away and getting kicked out.

Despite everything that had happened, a small part of him was still hopeful his father might acknowledge his birthday. Even if the acknowledgement was simply a kinder treatment towards him (rather than the harshness that he had been dealing him the past couple of days), Hyungwon would have accepted it. Anything.

But as the hours passed by, and the day sky melted into the night, he grew doubtful. He waited for his father's arrival, but it was becoming apparent he wasn’t coming home on time. Hyungwon tried not to dwell on it. It wasn’t an unusual happenstance for his father to end up having to work late. He was sure he’d be back soon.

Then there was a knock on the door.

Hyungwon perked up. His father was a meticulous man; he wouldn’t have forgotten his keys.

He paused. After a moment, there was another series of knocks, this time louder and more aggressive.

He got out from his room. Technically, he wasn’t allowed to answer the door (or leave his room unless dismissed, for that matter), but the knocking sounded urgent. By the time the third series of knocking began, he had already reached the front door.

With some hesitance, he turned the knob and opened the door.

He froze. It was an official.

“Are you Hyungwon?” The official addressed him. He was dressed in full gear, with two officials standing behind him. Hyungwon nodded hesitantly. “We have some questions for you.”

* * *

The room was hollow. Nobody but Shownu was in the room, making the cement walls feel as if they were closing in, soon to crush him. Goosebumps crept at his skin, the air feeling icy cold. Her neatly folded hospital robes rested on the bed, and it wouldn’t be long before they were tossed aside. The room would be cleaned, the bed would be made, eagerly waiting to take its new patient, and his grandmother’s presence would be forgotten. He pulled out a light blue flower, and gently placed it on top of the bed. Its turquoise color was contrasting and vibrant against the cream-colored robes.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t considered this possibility. The reasonable side of him knew that this had been the most likely outcome. But _god_ he felt like such a fool for thinking he could change fate. 

His grandmother had taught him everything he had known, and everything he believed in. She taught him his values and morals. Since Shownu was a child, she had been a shoulder to lean on when he was in distress, and was a never-ending source of wisdom and advice. She was only person who understood him fully.

The numbness in him was brutally replaced by an overwhelming amount of guilt. It had all been for nothing. He had gone against everything his grandmother stood for, everything he stood for, just to save her; and it had been pointless in the end. He had committed a terrible crime and stolen from the innocent. Maybe it was karma that this had been the outcome. 

All the feelings that he had suppressed the past few weeks suddenly consumed him. For the first time since he had heard the news, he broke down. He had betrayed her, himself, their values; and she would have been disappointed in his actions.

He took the duffel bag filled with the money from out his room that night, when everyone was quietly resting. Cautiously, he slipped out the backdoor and entered their backyard. Once he was sure he was unseen, concealed by the dark of the night, he unzipped the bag and poured the wads into the pit. 

He had been debating the best way to dispose of it. He considered bringing it back to the bank. Doing something good with it rather than keeping it for himself. But the money was infected with his fingerprints now, and even if he did find some good to put it towards, it would become evident who the culprits were--and he, and potentially Jooheon, would be targeted. As much as he wanted to be convicted, wanted to pay for his crimes, he couldn’t; his family needed him now more than ever, and he couldn’t bring upon more devastation.

So he pulled out a match, and brushed it across the side of wood, and watched the flame light up. He took one last look at the money. Then threw the match down.

The fire caught on quickly, and began to eat away the bills. He watched it burn, the pastel colors being morphed into black ash. As he watched the smoke fade into the night sky, an unbearable guilt built up and he felt tears begin to escape his eyes.

He had to do something to make up for it. He had to pay for his crime somehow.

What he should do hit him suddenly. He’d help the town by stopping the threat that had hung over it for so long. He’d help join the fight against the Clan. He’d do something that he had considered doing for a long time.

He’d become an official.

* * *

Minhyuk let himself in through the front door. After what had happened last night, he wasn't concerned Hyungwon’s father was home.

“Hyungwon?” He called, taking a step into the house. Surprisingly, the door had been left unlock.

As he made his way to the staircase, he realized just how little of the house he had actually seen besides Hyungwon’s room. It was bigger than he anticipated, and a lot more decorated than he had imagined. Hyungwon’s room was always kept slightly unclean, and was very bare, the walls unpainted and lacking of any extravagant furnishings. The rest of the house, however, appeared grand in its interior, lush paintings hanging on the walls with delicately carved woodwork at the edge of ruby wallpaper.

He climbed up the stairs, making his way to Hyungwon’s room. “Hyungwon?” He called once more, but yet again, nothing.

He tried to combat his worry, which was fastly creeping up on him. There was the potential that Hyungwon was using his newfound freedom to explore the town. After all, he’d have to had heard the news by now. The officials likely would have contacted him by now. It was a probable situation Hyungwon may have left the house, maybe to find him. 

The news had spread rapidly all over the town. The night prior, Hyungwon’s father’s church had been burned down by the Clan. By the time help had came, only a tiny bit was managed to be salvaged. But even more scandalous, when officials had arrived on the site, they were greeted with two things. X’s painted on the ashy windows with black spray paint, a sign that the Clan was claiming the attack. And two, evidence that Hyungwon’s father had been stealing from the church.

Hyungwon’s father had been taken into immediate custody. He hadn’t been released yet, and Minhyuk suspected he wouldn’t be for quite sometime. Stealing from the church wasn’t just a shameful crime to do in the eyes of the town, it was heavily punishable by the law. At least for the time being, Hyungwon was free from his father.

Minhyuk entered the room, but found it was empty. So maybe Hyungwon really had gone out after all. He turned to exit, when he heard a soft dripping sound coming from the upstairs bathroom.

For some reason, he felt compelled to follow it. It was probably nothing more than a leaky faucet or a small hole in the roof. Still, the pattering of the water against ceramic tiles had taken his attention, and he felt the strange urge to follow after it.

As he neared, he saw that the wooden door had been left slightly ajar. He knocked on it lightly, calling out Hyungwon’s name one more time before entering.

The first thing he noticed was the puddle of water. His shoes splashed onto it the second he stepped in, and he spotted that practically the entire bathroom floor had a thin layer of water. 

The second thing he noticed was the bathtub, filled to the brink with water, a single droplet seeping from it every few moments.

And the completely still body submerged in it.`

Minhyuk didn’t need to turn the body over to know who it was. The way they were to lanky to fit into the whole tub, so their feet hung awkwardly outside of it. The raven-colored bangs that concealed their eyes, floating in the water above his forward. The fact that in its left hand, not its right, was an empty pill bottle. No, there was no denying it. It was Hyungwon.

Minhyuk didn’t react at first. He instead stared at the leaking water, not processing the sight, feeling the world slow around him. 

Then his legs collapsed, and he fell to the wet ground on his knees.

No, no. This couldn’t be--Hyungwon. Hyungwon couldn’t have done this. As he stared at the body, he struggled to comprehend the fact that it was him. Hyungwon, the person who had been by his side since they were kids. Who would exchange secrets with him. Who knew him unlike anyone else. Who had only just revealed he felt the same. He couldn’t just be _gone_.

This wasn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t fair. He wanted Hyungwon to be free; to finally get to live his life on his own terms. And now, now he wasn’t going to get to.

He sat there for a long time, on the cold and hard bathroom floor, his jeans soaking. The sound of the overflowing bath water dripping on the floor mocked him, each droplet sounding in his ears like an explosion until it eventually faded into static.

The presence of the blue flask of liquid in his back pocket became heavy. The rules were clear; he wasn’t supposed to use it, in any circumstance, to prove his resilience. But this was different. He could restrain from using it on himself, sure, but in a situation like this--no. No this was much, much different.

Staring at Hyungwon’s lifeless body, thinking about all the things he was going to miss, thinking about the fact that he had only just turned of age and the fact he could finally start a new path and new life for himself--it became evident what he had to do.

He found feeling return to his legs and he pulled himself up from off of the ground. Slowly, he made his way to the side of the bathtub. He pulled the flask from his backpocket--normally, it was so light he barely ever remembered it was there, but today it felt like it weighed in his hands. What he was doing was risky, and went against everything he had worked for. He didn’t even know if it would work; the mechanics of it all were confusing and at times, entirely based upon luck. But he had to try. For Hyungwon. 

He unclasped the cork from the flask and heard it clack onto the floor. The overwhelming scent of something pleasantly sweet hit him. He couldn't identify what the scent was, but it was incredibly tempting. Before any temptation could overtaken him, he turned it over, and poured the small amount of liquid into the bathtub.

He pulled Hyungwon's body up from the bathtub so his head was resting near the faucet. The water freezing cold, and chilled Minhyuk's bones as he touched it. Then he sat down beside the tub and grasped Hyungwon’s icy hand, resting his head on their lapsed fingers, and staring at him in anticipation.

He waited.

And he kept waiting.

Time passed by tormentingly slow. He barely blinked, afraid to look away even for a moment.  _Please._

He waited some more. He waited as minutes that felt like hours passed by. 

Then Hyungwon’s hand began to move in his.

He shot up, relief overcoming him. It had worked. Hyungwon was slowly coming back to him.

Even if it had cost Minhyuk his position in the Clan.

* * *

 

_Everything changes eventually._

_Even if we try to stop it. Even if we want to remain the same. We don’t have a choice._

_Everything will change._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (finally, after like 15,000 words, the angst will stop and the action will start)


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow I'm not dead (though I might be after Shine Forever)

One week letter, Shownu received his official acceptance to the force. 

He stuffed the letter in the crevice between his bedframe and mattress. He hadn’t spoken a word of his intentions to anyone, not even his parents (though that conversation was surely approaching soon). All that would come with that confession would be disdain and disapproval. 

It wasn’t any secret how deeply rooted his friends hate of the force was. No, they openly and loudly expressed their distaste for officials, with sneers and spoken jabs at them in conversations held underneath the bridge. They wouldn’t understand his reasoning; they wouldn’t understand that even though it was corrupt, it was the only protection the town had against the greater danger-The Clan. And Shownu wanted to, no,  _ needed _ to help too. They wouldn’t understand any of that. They’d just turn their backs on him without a second thought, out-casting him.

And he especially did not tell Jooheon. Jooheon was his best friend, but he was also the most strong-headed and stubborn person Shownu had ever encountered in his life. There was not a doubt in his mind Jooheon would hate him if he found out.

Unfortunately for Shownu, it seemed as though Jooheon had suddenly developed a strong interest in his personal activities.

“What’s been up?” Jooheon had caught him on the streets, and though Shownu had attempted to avoid him, Jooheon had persistently caught up to him, and aligned their footsteps to match. “You’re gone all the time nowadays.”

Shownu sighed. This was true. On times when he wasn’t experiencing the horridly intensive and rigorous training the officials were putting him through, he was fiercely avoiding Jooheon at every turn. Jooheon had a keen eye, and Shownu was a horrendous liar. 

“I...have a new job.” He replied with. A vague truth was easier to say than a lie. 

Jooheon tilted his head, peering at him with a burning curiosity. Shownu kept his eyes on the sidewalk, attempting not to give Jooheon a gateway into his lies. “A new job? Is your family still struggling?” Jooheon asked, a hint of concern. Shownu let out a short nod. “But what about all the--”

“The money?” He presumed. “I burned it.”

If it was at all possible to choke on ones own spit, Shownu was positive that Jooheon had accomplished it. “You WHAT?”

Shownu shrugged. “There was no use for it anymore.” He stated, before walking away from Jooheon--who simply let him go.

\------

A strange sensation passed through Hyungwon.

His veins felt as though they had been injected with heat, causing the blood within him to boil. Warmth surrounded him, but oddly, it seemed to come from within him. As though his heart was pumping heat throughout his system like blood. 

Pillows of black surrounded him, and everywhere he looked was casted in shadows. A small ray of a blinding white light peeked through the darkness; and then at a rapid pace, took over the dark. He felt himself be consumed by it, blinding him with white.

Then suddenly, he found himself thrashing in water, gasping for air. His brain felt muddled and struggled to process anything, as if it had been turned into nothing but mush.

Two hands grabbed onto his shoulders and dragged him out of the water, placing him gently on the ground. A body embraced him, wrapping their arms around his back and neck.

Slowly, consciousness returned to him, and the white spots faded from his vision revealing the location. He recognized the distinctive white hair resting on the head that was burrowing itself into his shoulder; It was Minhyuk. 

His eyes darted around the room. This was...his bathroom? The bathtub beside them was dripping with water and both of them were nearly sopping wet. Was that where he had been pulled from? 

“What’s happening?” He asked Minhyuk. He was surprised to find that his voice was raspy and coarse, and when he tried to speak, it felt like the words were sandpaper rubbing against his throat.

Minhyuk shushed him, and clutched onto Hyungwon’s shirt harder. He felt Minhyuk’s body racking against him, and heard the faint sound of stifled sniffling. Minhyuk...was crying? 

Memories hit him at full force. The bathroom. The tub. The stolen bottle of medical syrup. Had that really happened? It seemed to hauntingly fit with the circumstance, but if it had happened, how was he here? And why was Minhyuk beside him?

He attempted to speak again, but nothing but babble came out. Minhyuk shushed him once more, pulling Hyungwon’s head into his shoulder. That’s when Hyungwon could feel how heavy Minhyuk was actually crying--sobbing, even. 

He broke away from the embrace to face Minhyuk. “Minhyuk?” He said, which only made Minhyuk cry harder. Hyungwon felt at a loss as to what to do; he had never seen Minhyuk in such a position.

Slowly, he pulled Minhyuk into an embrace, and awkwardly patted him on the head.

“Is...everything okay…?” Everything was clearly not okay, and Hyungwon felt stupid as soon as the words had left his mouth. But there was nothing else he could think of to say.

Minhyuk, after a long pause, stifled his crying slightly, and managed to reply. “Yeah. Yeah it is now.”

The realization hit him. Hyungwon  _ must _ have died. There was no other explanation that fit to the scenario.

But...there was nothing in the room that could have saved his life. The only other person in the room was Minhyuk. It didn’t make any sense to him that he could be alive.

“Minhyuk.” He spoke up once more. His voice had begun to return to him. “What happened?”

Minhyuk didn’t respond, though his crying calmed slightly, as though he was intending to. 

Hyungwon grasped onto Minhyuk’s shoulders and pulled him away from the embrace to look him in the eyes. His eyelids were puffy and his face was turned pinkish red; his silver eyes could barely meet Hyungwons.

“Minhyuk.” He repeated, practically begging the boy to answer him.

Finally, Minhyuk had managed to collect himself. With a shaky breath in, he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie, and locked eyes with Hyungwon. “I have a lot to tell you.”

\---

Their spot under the bridge felt a lot more bare with just the four of them.

Jooheon kicked a stray pebble half-heartedly and watched as it clattered into the distance. He debated whether or not to retrieve his one source of entertainment--but quickly decided it had gone too far for him to bother, and sat back down on the barrel. 

The four of them were sitting underneath the bridge as per their usual Sunday ritual. He hadn’t anticipated Hyungwon nor Minhyuk to show up. Hyungwon was likely still dealing with the arrest of his father, and if Hyungwon wasn’t coming, neither was Minhyuk.

But now even Shownu was ditching them. Jooheon had an inkling of suspicion as to why, but he was praying against all odds, it wasn’t true.

Boredly, he drummed a stick against the abandoned items, dust clouds puffing up into the air with each new pat. There was something calming about it, but it lacked the usual music; instead, sounding like a depressing set of heartless clacks.

After minutes of silence, Kihyun threw his head back and whined. “This is boring.” He hit a discarded crate with the side of his crutch. “Where is everybody?”

Wonho and Changkyun had slipped into their own conversation, leaving Jooheon the only one left to respond. He shrugged. “Probably having a killer party without us.”

Kihyun huffed, a tiny pout tugging at the edges of his lips. “It’s not the same anymore. Let’s go somewhere else.”

Jooheon adjusted his cap, trying to ignore the hot summer sun which was cruelly beating down on him. “Like where?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed. Then, without missing a beat, he suggested, “The park.” Implying he had known exactly where he wanted to go all along.

Jooheon raised a curious eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Kihyun. You’re in crutches. What could you do at a park full of slides and swings?” He emphasized.

Kihyun crossed his arms defensively, “I just like the atmosphere, okay?”

Jooheon snorted. “Okay.” He got up from his crate. “I’m dying to get out of here anyway. This crate smells like mothballs.”

Kihyun pulled himself up off the crate. “Changkyun and Wonho, you should come to the park with us.” He called, breaking them out of their conversation.

Changkyun raised an eyebrow at them, locking eyes with Jooheon. “You’re going to the park? Didn’t we promise to help Wonho find a new job?”

Jooheon let out a deliberately childish sigh. “But I wanted to go to the park.” He whined.

Changkyun wasn’t amused. “Wonho could really use the help.” He turned to Wonho expectantly.

On cue, Wonho chimed in. “Yeah, I really could.”

Jooheon rolled his eyes, slightly annoyed, but knowing they weren’t going to budge. “Fine, whatever.”

“Then can I come with?” Kihyun interjected.

Changkyun gave Jooheon a look, which Jooheon immediately was able to decipher. He flashed Changkyun an annoyed look in return (which Changkyun replied with an eyeroll), then turned to Kihyun. “Nah. It’s adult stuff.”

Kihyun blinked at him, unamused. “I’m literally 3 years younger than you.”

“Exactly. Which makes you 16. Which makes you not an adult.” Jooheon replied. 

“That’s so dumb! You’ve literally known me since we were kids!” Kihyun exclaimed, exasperated. “What kind of job is Wonho getting?!” 

Jooheon let out a laugh, then waved. “See ya later.” He said, as they began to depart. Then he added in, not able to stand the slight hurt projected in Kihyun’s eyes, “We’ll go to the park later or something, okay?”

Even though he didn’t know if it was a promise he could keep.

\-----

“I don’t understand.”

Hyungwon dried off and changed his clothes. His limbs had regain consciousness, and he sat on his bed, his blanket wrapped around him. He felt incredibly comfortable, even though his brain still felt like it was functioning right. 

Minhyuk sat across from him on the floor, his legs crossed. He was still sopping with water, which was seeping into the floorboards. “You were dead.” He repeated to Hyungwon.

“I--I know that.” Hyungwon responded. That was the only thing Minhyuk kept clarifying for him. “But how am I-- _ why _ am I here?” 

“I brought you back to life.” Minhyuk finally admitted. His words were soft, and his eyes seemed almost devoid of emotion. He was staring at the ground, unable to meet Hyungwon’s eyes.

“That’s impossible. That’s--”

“I used this.” Minhyuk interrupted him, holding up an empty flask. It was barely the size of a pointer finger. “It was full of a liquid, harvested from the blue flower.”

Hyungwon instantly knew what he was implying. “ _The_ blue flower?” Minhuyk nodded. “But that’s--I mean isn’t that a myth?”

The blue flower was a symbol used by the Clan to rally fear. But every blue flower that was placed in the aftermaths of an attack was simply just a decoy. The supposed 'real' blue flower, the one the Clan worshiped, was what some demeaned as witchcraft. No one knew exactly what it did, but it was rumored to hold great power. Some claimed that members of The Clan used the blue flowers to gain godlike powers, and was the reason why they were able to terrorize citizens so swiftly and anonymously. 

There was no evidence to support any of those claims, however. No one had ever encountered the actual 'magical' blue flower. So Hyungwon had always wrote it off as ridiculous chatter.

But Minhyuk looked deadly serious when he replied back with, “No.”

Even though the words should have shocked him, Hyungwon found it hard to have any reaction. He felt like he was in some strange dream. Nothing was processing right. “So you...you used the blue flower's powers  to bring me back?” Minhyuk nodded and Hyungwon felt his voice crack when he asked, “Why?”

Minhyuk tilted his head. “What do you mean?” 

“I--I wanted to die, Minhyuk.” He couldn’t look at him as he said the words. “I should have--”

Minhyuk loudly interrupted him. “Stop!” Hyungwon froze. “Just stop. God. Don’t--don’t talk like that.”

Hyungwon froze, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry.”

Minhyuk replied. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…” He looked at the ground. “Hyungwon, you’re so important. We all care about you. I care about you. “

Hyungwon didn't say anything for a moment. “You’re not lying?” He asked quietly.

“No.” Minhyuk was firm in his response. “Never.”

Hyungwon shifted. Minhyuk’s heartbreak began to fill him with unbearable guilt. 

He tried to change the subject. “The blue flask then? What's that about?”

“It’s a healing remnant made from the blue flowers. It’s powerful.” Minhyuk explained. “It brings life and strength, to some, it brings unspeakable power.”

“How’d you get it?” Hyungwon asked. Minhyuk didn’t answer immediately, his bangs concealing his face, and an unreadable movement tugging at his lips. Hyungwon wished in that moment he could read his mind. It seemed like Minhyuk was miles away from him. 

“We only get one.” Minhyuk finally spoke, after what felt like a long while. There was the sound of something in his voice--was it resound? “I wasn’t supposed to use it. Ever.”

“We?” Hyungwon plucked through his words. “You’re not supposed to use it? What are you talking about?”

Minhyuk took a deep breath. Then, with a single sentence, confirmed everything Hyungwon had been fearing was true. “Hyungwon. I’m a part of the clan.”            

\----

That day marked the first day of what was the start of it all.

Shownu had been training for what felt like non-stop for weeks. There was an increasing demand for new officials, requiring officials to be produced quickly and swiftly and shot out into the force. Which meant that Shownu had little to no downtime, as he was kept for long hours, training ruthlessly. His superiors claimed that the intensively fast-paced training was to ensure that they trained to their fullest potential, but it wasn’t hard to decipher the real reasoning behind it; they were being made so quickly to be disposable. 

Despite this fact, he was still determined to prove himself an asset. He worked himself harder than he had ever worked in his life. Even after the long tedious hours, he still attempted to exude energy. Every sweat bead, every muscle strain, every peak of exhaustion; it wasn’t enough. He needed to redeem himself. 

It didn’t go unnoticed. His high marks earned him respect among his peers, and garnered the attention of his superiors. And within a few weeks, he received notification that he would be graduating early and receiving his badge.

“We expect a lot from you.” His higher officer informed him. “Do not disappoint us.”

“I won’t, sir.” He saluted.

Becoming an official had sacrificed more than his physicality. He had barely any time to see anyone. His family was constantly stressed over him, and though his parents tried not to show it, he could tell they were worried. It was shown in the concerned glances they’d give him when he came home after the sun had set, his bones aching, his legs limping. It was shown in his mothers hugs that she’d give him before he left every morning at 4am, looming and tight.

He saw his friends even less. Occasionally, he’d spot them on the streets, and they’d exchange brief conversation, but it was always cut short by the lingering time restraints of being an official. Kihyun had seen him once and loudly complained about he was never around anymore; he had smiled and promised him he’d be back soon. In all honesty, he didn’t know if that was ever going to be true.

But the person that was the hardest to shake  was Jooheon. He’d greet Shownu, either as he was making his way to work or after he had finished. It was hard to keep thinking of excuses as to where he was going, and even harder to hide the physical strain he was under. He wasn’t unobservant of Jooheon’s suspicious glances and deliberately prying questions. He knew it was only a matter of time before the secret slipped out of his hands, either from Jooheon’s investigation or his own untrustworthy mouth.

He was anticipating that morning, as he put on his coat and exited the house, to find Jooheon just ‘happening’ to be walking the same route as him at 4:00 am. Instead, he found himself walking in silence to the officials building, nothing but the early birds chirping to accompany him. He was waiting for Jooheon to suddenly appear from every corner he passed by, but he never did. 

Immediately upon entrance of the building, he sensed something was off. A few people rushed by him, slipping on their gear as they speed walked through the halls. He hesitantly made his way to his locker.

As he pulled out his protective gear, a voice called him. “Shownu.”

He turned to find his high officer at the end of the locker room. He was dressed in full gear, his stance tall and expression stone serious. “There’s been an attack. This is going to be your first dispatch. Get your gear on immediately and find us in the back in two minutes."

He nodded, giving a small salute to the command, before swiftly moving to put on his gear.

The sun was just setting on the horizon as he exited to the back field. There were clumps of officials waiting around as a dispatching truck road up. He kept his back straight and his face expressionless as he entered the truck, cramming in between others in the sweat-inducing suits. He didn’t want to show the slight increase in his heartbeat as the truck began to speed away. This was it. His first dispatch.

He watched in the back of the truck the world passing by. The hues of orange of the rising sun got more intense...incredibly intense. He squinted. Those weren’t the natural colors of the morning sky. Grey smoke puffing through the air confirmed his suspicions; it was the hue of a burning flame.

The truck stopped suddenly, jolting him and his peers forward and squishing him to the back of the truck for a moment. Then, the others grabbed their weapons, and hopped out. He followed after them, hesitantly holding onto his sniper gun.

Smoke seeped through his glass helmet and he coughed. It grew heavier with each step he took forward, beginning to block his sight and turning the other officials into shadows. He could hear the crackling of fire and finally found his eyes set on the building that had been set ablaze.

It was a tinier building. Shownu vaguely made out the name of the building, engraved above the front door ‘Westside Library’. The most haunting site, however, was that placed strategically outside of the fire was an array of blue flowers. This was claimed as a clan attack. But, why? What purpose could anyone have setting aflame a library?

A small crowd of sleepy people had begun to emerge, gathering a healthy distance across from the fire, watching with wide eyes. Thankfully, it appeared as though there wasn't anyone actually inside of the building. 

Shownu moved to follow the others, but the corner of his eyes caught something. Looming by the wall of the building right beside the library, a shadow was hovering, detached from the crowds of people. They didn’t seem to mind the growing fire, instead their head pointed at the truck, watching the officials every move.

It was his first mission. He knew he shouldn’t stray from the group. He shouldn’t mess up. But something about the lingering figure was suspicious to him, and filled him with anxiety. So instead of following orders like he should have, and following the others into the burning building, he began to walk towards the figure. 

The figure’s head moved to gaze in his direction, but they didn't budge. They stood still, leaning against the building, their arms crossed.

“Do you need help?” Shownu called out to the figure, who he realized, was a man. The shadows looming on them were beginning to dissolve with each approaching step.

The figure didn’t reply. He continued to watch Shownu coolly.

Shownu was only a few feet away now, and he saw the reason why he couldn't make out any facial features; because the figure had none. A plain mask was concealing his face. 

Shownu’s heart froze. He recognized the mask. It was the same mask he had used to rob the bank. The mask of The Clan.

He reacted immediately, pulling up his gun in defense. “Don’t move.” He ordered sternly. 

The figure finally changed his stance. He detached himself from the wall, and Shownu immediately tensed. The figure, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered. He walked towards Shownu with a slight swagger in his step. 

Shownu told himself to stay calm. He had been anticipating something like this; he had trained for it, in fact. Judging by the Clan member’s smaller physique and lack of weapons, he was no match for Shownu. Yet, his heart continued to beat against his chest, and he remained frozen. 

The member had reached the tip of Shownu’s gun now. Through the eye slits of the mask, Shownu felt their eyes meet and lock. The members eyes felt piercing as though they were inspecting the depths of his soul. Shownu felt somehow, even though it was the Clan member who was the one without any protective gear, dressed simply in a t-shirt and baggy pants-bare.

The member reached into their back pocket and Shownu moved his finger to the trigger, making a move to attack. 

The man instantly lifted up his fisted hands to the air, a sign of surrender. Then, slowly, he unclasped his fist revealing a tiny blue flower in his palm. The man reached the hand out to Shownu, and Shownu jabbed the gun forward, a warning for him to seize movement; but the man didn’t acknowledge it. 

Wordlessly, the member placed the flower into the breast pocket of Shownu’s uniform gently. He locked eyes with Shownu once more, and spoke up for the first time, “Keep that. You’ll need it.”

And with that, the member turned and walked away.

Shownu watched him as he left, his fear dissolving into confusion. The way the clan member walked; there was something distinctively familiar about it that Shownu couldn’t place. 

He looked down at the flower. It was beautiful, he did have to admit. Its petals were an enchanting vibrant shade of turquoise, that seemed to almost glow on top of his faded navy blue outfit in the darkened morning.

Shownu knew it was likely just to be a ploy flower, and not the real one that the Clan worshiped. Either way, the correct thing to have done would have been to report his encounter and place the flower in the hands of a higher officer. But instead, he felt a desire to hold onto it himself, a slight protectiveness overcoming him. The Clan member had given it to him, after all. So he pushed it further down into his breast pocket and buttoned it up, concealing it from sight. 

As he turned to walk away, and hopefully catch up to the others before anyone noticed, his eyes caught something else. A spray paint bottle was resting on the floor of the alley. He looked up at the wall and saw that words had been plastered onto the brick exterior. The words had been spray painted in a vibrant blue color, next to a small symbolical drawing of a flower. 

‘If it’s a war you want, a war you’ll get.’


End file.
